


Miniature Devotion

by XxTheDarkLordxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Fae & Fairies, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, courting, draco is a fairy, minimal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23343367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/pseuds/XxTheDarkLordxX
Summary: Uncle Vernon said Magic didn't exist but he was aliar.Magicwasreal, Draco was the embodiment of Magic.Fairy.Draco was afairy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 74
Kudos: 1063





	Miniature Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rieraclaelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/gifts).



> Omg this story has been a WILD ride for me. This story is for my friend Jess (rieraclaelin) whose birthday was Feb 3rd. Shks it's wayyyy late. For that I am very sorry. I adore you Jess, so much. I hope you enjoy the story, I thought of you the entire way.
> 
> A special shoutout to Scarlet47 for letting me commission her for her gorgeous art that you'll see inside the fic. Please show her some love and attention

**(1987)**

Sent to bed with no dinner, _again_. Harry wasn’t sure what it was that he had done wrong. His teacher had sent everyone home with a report on their grades. There was nothing wrong with his other than a few points missing on maths. But who needed maths anyway? If it was his maths score that was the problem, then how come Dudley didn’t get in trouble? Dudley had no good marks at all.

It wasn’t fair.

The growling of his stomach was hard to ignore and all he wanted to do was eat something, even if it was gross. Harry stared up at the cupboard ceiling wishing that things were different. How come all the other kids in his class had nice parents? Nice caregivers?

As he looked around, hoping to find something that he might have stashed for later, the only thing he could see were spiders. He wasn’t _that_ hungry, yet. Harry flopped back on his cot with a loud sigh, arms folded, eyes closed and lips in a pout.

A strange noise had his eyes opening. Without his glasses, he had to squint really hard but even with blurry vision he was able to see a green shimmering light. Hunger took a backseat as excitement took over.

 _“Draco,”_ Harry whispered as he sat up, a finger stretched out in an invitation.

Uncle Vernon said magic didn’t exist, but Uncle Vernon didn’t know what he was talking about because Draco was the embodiment of magic.

Fairy.

Draco was a _fairy_.

The normal giggle that only ever meant trouble was absent. Harry couldn’t see what Draco was doing but he could hear frustrated grunts. He reached over to grab his glasses, slamming them on a bit too hard.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked when he realized Draco was trying to drag something through the air.

“I—” A disgruntled huff of air had Harry lifting his hands to help but he was met with a harsh glare and an outstretched hand—that was the only warning he got before he felt a cold wind that signified Draco’s magic in the form of a pinch to his arm.

“Ow!”

“I don’t need help.”

“Sometimes I don’t like you.”

The smile that he got in return was creepy. Jagged teeth were prominent in a smile only lifted to one side.

“What pity,” Draco said with a sadness that Harry knew wasn’t real. “I always like you.”

He couldn’t tell if Draco really meant that or it was just teasing. Either way, Harry felt his cheeks grow warm.

Harry watched Draco continue to struggle for several more minutes. He wondered if Draco would reach him before morning—too slow.

“Ha!” Draco cried triumphantly as he straightened up before shoving something into Harry’s waiting hand.

“Erm,” Harry looked down at what looked like some kind of crust. The shape was off in spots where it was obvious Draco had gripped it too tightly. “What is it?”

“Food.” Draco stood on Harry’s hand, dark green wings flapping angrily—fast enough that silver specks of dust of magic floated down, resembling glitter. “You hungry, I feed you.”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes stung as he clutched both the crust and Draco gently to his chest. “Thank you.”

“’ Tis nothing.”

Draco fought against the hold. He never did like affection much, but Harry wanted Draco to be able to feel his gratitude.

“You’re my best friend, Draco.”

“For now.”

That sounded bad. Panic had him holding on tighter, ignoring the tiny fists hitting his hands.

“What do you mean? You’ll always be my best friend.”

Draco wiggled until he was able to sit on the back of Harry’s hand. There was a somewhat sad smile on his face, and Harry didn’t like it.

“One day you won’t need me anymore.”

“I don’t—” The stinging came back, and Harry wasn’t sure he could stop it.

“Your suffering calls me,” whispered Draco as he pat Harry’s hand in an uncharacteristically kind gesture. “My job is to heal. I will heal your pain until you no longer hurt.”

“Job?”

“I’m too young to have a charge. My father thinks I’m out annoying Goblins.” It was whispered nervously as Draco looked around the cupboard as if someone was listening.

“But your hurt matches your power,” Draco continued. “I heard you. I came anyway.”

Power? What did that mean? What power?

Harry had a hard time understanding it all. Draco had never talked much about why he visited. “It’s only a job? I’m not your friend?”

When Draco didn’t answer, Harry lost control of the stinging.

“Shh, little one,” Draco mumbled as he climbed up Harry’s arm, making his way up to the face before he tried to stretch enough to wipe Harry’s eyes. “You’ll be my friend even after you no longer remember me.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cried. He could never forget Draco, _never_. “And you’re the little one!”

When there was another magical pinch to his arm, Harry couldn’t help but laugh—only it sounded like a wet chuckle.

“When the hurt goes away, so do I.”

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

Draco wouldn’t meet his eyes as he said, “I’ll always be with you. You just won’t know it.”

“But—”

“Don’t fret now, little one. We still have a few more years together.”

That didn’t make him feel any better, only made his tears come quicker. It sounded like a goodbye wasn’t far away.

“Come on,” Draco urged. “You eat and I’ll hold you, okay?”

The most Draco could actually hold of him, was half of his neck. Despite that, the gesture filled him with warmth and the tears slowed before eventually drying.

“I want to hold you for real,” Harry whispered as he bit into the crust.

“One day.”

There was an almost mischievous twinkle to his eyes, but his smile was soft and that stood out to Harry the most. Draco wasn’t a soft fairy.

“When?” The impatience came out in a whine and he glared when Draco laughed.

“When you figure out my intentions.”

“That makes no sense.”

Draco shrugged, magical dust falling off his shoulder in the process. “It will eventually.”

Harry wanted to argue or beg for more information, but he felt exhausted. Crying always did that to him. His eyes closed after finishing the last bite of crust and let the warmth of Draco’s presence lull him to sleep.

_“Please figure out my intentions.”_

* * *

**(1993)**

“Harry, why do you always leave trash on the windowsill?” Dean huffed, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

Trash?

Harry blinked rapidly as he tried to focus. It was too early in the morning to be thinking about anything other than going back to sleep. He wanted to get back to the dream he had been having—it was so nice.

“Huh?”

Dean rolled his eyes before shoving several things into Harry’s lap. “Like this.”

Harry reached blindly toward the nightstand as he tried to grapple for his glasses, hoping to prove Dean wrong. Only…

Trash was pretty accurate.

A dented Butterbeer cap, part of a tissue, crumbs of some kind of pastry, a broken quill and a crumpled leaf that looked like it came from the Whomping Willow.

“I don’t know where this all came from.”

“It’s always on your window!”

“It’s not from me,” Harry argued, fingers trailing over the stuff. “Look, this is a cherry Butterbeer. When have I ever drank that? That’s just nasty, no one should mess with a classic.”

Dean deflated a little as he looked at the cap. “Well—”

“What do you mean always?” Harry asked, lips tilted downward. “This isn’t the first time?”

“It’s really not you?” There was a hesitance to his voice and it intrigued Harry.

“No. I swear on Ron’s life.”

“Oi!” Ron cried, face buried in a pillow and a blanket covering his head. “Leave me out of it. Swear on your own life you tosser.”

The hesitance turned to guilt before Dean apologized. “I was too quick to assume.”

Harry shrugged, not really bothered by it. “What other stuff have you been finding?”

“Oh!” Dean ran to his bed before kneeling down and reaching for something underneath it—or at least he tried. Sounds of struggling and deep huffs were all he could hear.

“Why is Dean’s arse in the air?” Neville asked as Seamus entered the dorm. “Is he stuck under there?”

“Shut up.” It was muffled a bit and not threatening at all.

“Got it!” Dean said, a triumphant smile on his face as he stood up with a shoebox in his hands. “I’ve been keeping it all just in case it really was you and for some reason, you were sentimental over your trash.”

“It’s not mine,” repeated Harry, arms crossed and tone dry.

He almost didn’t want to look at the stuff out of spite, but he was curious.

There were more Butterbeer caps, an assortment of rocks—all on the smaller side, more crumbs, bits of tree bark, a dented spoon, a chess rook and much more. But what drew his attention the most was what looked like a wing of a snitch, torn off but still wiggling occasionally.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” Dean began, hand reaching for the box. “I can finally get rid of it all.”

“No.”

Harry didn’t really understand why, but he wanted to keep it. They were at his window for a reason, one he wanted to find out.

“Huh? But you said it wasn’t yours?”

“I want to keep them.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I _knew_ they were yours.”

There was no point in arguing. Harry was just going to let Dean think he was right, less energy than the truth.

“I wonder where they came from,” Harry whispered when Dean dramatically left the dorm with a flourish of his robes that put Snape to shame.

When he glanced up, he saw Ron and Neville whispering to each other, shooting Harry nervous looks.

“What?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison. Yeah, because he believed _that_.

“Ron.”

Ron shook his head, not budging.

“Neville.”

Just the slightest hint of disapproval had Neville’s hands wringing before he blurted, “Okay!”

“Oi!”

“Shut up, Ron.”

Neville inched toward the box to peer into it. He almost looked scared, and that had Harry gripping the box tighter.

“It’s a bad omen to find trinkets at a windowsill.”

A bad omen?

Harry picked up a scratched Knut from the box and arched his brows. “This is a bad omen?”

“Well,” Neville bit his lip. “I don’t know.”

Harry looked at Ron who seemed a bit lost himself.

“It’s not usually what you see for a bad omen.”

“Have you considered it’s not one then?”

“It’s got to be,” Ron argued as he sat next to Harry to peer into the box. “I’ve never heard of a fairy leaving good things.”

“Wait,” Harry held up a hand. “What fairy?”

Neville rolled his eyes as he nudged Harry to make room for him on the bed too. “What else would it be? Only fairies leave trinkets.”

Fairy.

An uneasy feeling began to take root. Fairy. Like his dreams. They were always different, but the common theme was always a fairy—one, in particular, was always present—even if he couldn't ever make out their face.

“Fairies are a bad omen?”

“No,” snorted Ron as he poked a few of the crumbs. “Fairies are a symbol of healing. They rarely leave the fae lines but when they do it’s usually to bring people together during a time of need. Not just wizards, but Magical creatures too.”

Time of need? That didn’t sound like a good thing.

“During the first war fairies were a common occurrence towards the end,” Neville added, somewhat sadly.

“Then I don’t understand,” Harry mumbled, eyes on the box. “If they are a symbol of healing then why is it a bad omen that they leave things behind?”

Neville and Ron exchanged a look, and he wished they wouldn’t. It was ominous.

“Fairies don’t like wizards,” Neville bit his lip. “They leave trinkets on those that have wronged them. Usually, a curse is embedded inside the items.”

“A curse?” Harry dropped the box on the bed and wiped his hands on his robes. “What kind of curse?”

“All kinds,” Ron shrugged. “Some are deadly, some are just mild or irritating.”

It wasn’t until Harry was panicking on the inside that Ron snickered. “Don’t worry, these aren’t cursed items.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s the thing,” Neville said, a lone finger on his chin. “Fairies are very blunt when it comes to curses. But this? The trinkets are strange. I’ve never heard of a fairy leaving non-cursed things behind. It just doesn’t make sense.”

None of what they said made much sense to Harry, but not much in the wizarding world actually did.

“Maybe it’s not a fairy leaving them?”

Ron’s face scrunched up in what Harry assumed was lost in thought, but he just looked ridiculous.

“No other Magical Creature I know of leaves things behind.”

“Then what does it all mean?” He asked, getting frustrated the longer the conversation went on.

Harry jumped when a new voice spoke up. He had forgotten that Seamus was still in the room.

“I think you have an admirer. A miniature devotion.”

_What?_

* * *

**(1994)**

Fear didn’t have to be scary, and even when it was it could be exhilarating in the same way it was motivating—driving action even if it was purely panic and adrenaline.

As Harry stood across from Voldemort in the dirty graveyard surrounded by jeering Death Eaters and a bubble of magic he didn’t understand, he was _afraid_. Way more than just the emotion, there was almost too much inside of him, and he didn’t understand where it came from.

His mind was screaming to move, but his magic was locked in place just as his eyes were frozen on red ones that knew far too much.

Words were whispered, and Harry was self-aware enough to know that it wasn’t _really_ his parents, but his heart squeezed painfully anyway. They told him that he’d have to leave, that he’d only have a few moments.

But what was life if not for a few moments already? The fear inside him was moving rapidly, and it was almost too distracting. All he had to do was reach out and use it as a strength—he’d have the upper-hand, but there was a fluttering inside his chest that warred with the fear.

Was there dichotomy in fear itself or was Harry just confusing himself the longer he tried to decipher his emotions?

Another whisper had him stilling. It wasn’t his parents, it wasn’t one he consciously recognized, but somewhere deep inside of him, it sounded familiar. Can one recall what they don’t know? The sound was a thrum, not unlike Magic, but this was filled with far more energy—one he _craved_.

_‘I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.’_

With his parents yelling, ‘now’, and his mind repeating the words over and over, Harry did nothing. Absolutely nothing. He let the whispers of the new voice lull him into a sense of calm, whether it would end up being a false pretence or not.

A small breathy sound tickled his ear. It was a laugh—no—a giggle; one filled with joy and a mischievousness that felt like home.

The thrum grew loud _with_ power. The red eyes that made up Harry’s nightmares went wide and the fear that he had felt previously was now reflected there. It was Karma, in a way.

There were only seconds. Harry didn’t know how he knew that, but the window of time to do something, _anything_ , was closing rapidly. Instead of panic that would have normally driven him to do something impulsive and stupid, he did nothing.

_‘Do it.’_

It wasn’t whispered but the sound felt more like a breeze than something tangible. Confidence became the side effect and he latched onto it desperately—as desperately as his mind was screaming that time was running out.

With an anti-climactic and somewhat lazy hand, Harry extended his palm and let his magic go. There was no intention, no whispered wants, nothing of concrete or any direction—just simple faith in the barely-there presence that Harry could almost feel.

What came with Voldemort’s scream of fury was the absence of whatever he had been feeling. That presence left, and with it, part of Harry felt like it disappeared too. The scream blended into a hundred more as his feet hit solid ground and his balance gave out.

Eyes opening to crying faces should have been numbing, it should have been a reality check to his surroundings.

But all Harry could focus on was a light dusting of silver glitter-like magic left on his palm.

* * *

**(1995)**

Each new day brought in new trinkets and Harry wished he could meet whoever left them behind. Fairy still seemed a bit outlandish to him, but after the glitter, was there really any other options?

Harry rolled a small marble in his palm as he sat by the Black Lake. At first, the rock seemed to be just like the others but the more he stared, the more he could see things. Shapes, wisps, lines of movement. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly they were or what it all meant, but he was fascinated.

“They treasure you.”

“Ah!”

Harry startled enough that his foot slipped, and his trainers splashed into the shore and the marble almost fell out of his hands.

“Luna, what the fuck?”

He was still trying to calm his racing heart when he noticed that she was staring at his hand, where the marble was now clenched inside.

“What did you say?”

There was a small uptick to her lips, a happiness he didn’t see too often.

“They treasure you.”

“I was hoping you’d offer more than that,” Harry said slowly, a hand gesturing toward her. “Who treasures me?”

“Your fairy.”

Harry’s breath caught, and for the first time in a long time, he had her full attention. Light blue eyes that knew more than he wanted to find out, stared intently at him.

“What do you—Luna, I don’t understand.”

“Fairies don’t like me.”

“I—” Harry frowned. “I’m sorry?”

A light shrug was his only response. “They say I’m too fanciful.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Oh!” Luna clapped her hands. “I take it as a great compliment.”

She would.

“You though,” Luna whispered, eyes curiously regarding him. “You seem to have caught the attention of one.”

“But _why_? Why me?”

When Luna looked away, he felt as if whatever they had been sharing had broken too. He didn’t want riddles as answers, he wanted more than that.

“Why anyone?”

Harry groaned as he plopped back onto the shore. Getting information out of Luna was worse than asking Professor Snape to repeat instructions.

“I’ve been keeping all of the trinkets,” whispered Harry when the silence got too uncomfortable for him. He wondered if there was a meaning behind any of them or if the fairy just found random things.

“As I’m sure they have as well.”

“Erm.”

Harry shifted uneasily when Luna’s eyes narrowed.

“Harry, you haven’t left a gift in reply?”

“No,” he hedged, voice far more hesitant than he wanted. “Should I have?”

Luna blew out a breath that was a touch harsh as she walked away, head over her shoulder as she said, “Fairies have been known to curse those for less.”

Well. Okay then.

Only…

“Wait!” Harry called after her, hurrying to keep up.

“What exactly does one get a fairy?”

* * *

**(1996)**

Luna had been no help, Hermione was skeptical about the whole thing, Neville left whenever Harry tried to ask and Ron had nothing of worth to comment. So Harry did the one thing he rarely ever did.

He went to the library.

Honestly, he should have done that from the beginning. There were so many books on fairies, the different types and some of the many cures for when wizards befall their curses. It turned out that there was a meaning behind the trinkets.

Each one meant something, and it had taken him days to figure them all out. The bottle caps had meant affection, rocks fell to fascination, the crumpled leaf was vitality and even the broken quill meant eagerness.

His fairy was talking to him through emotions and pieces of affection. Only Harry wasn’t sure of his own thoughts let alone what he was feeling.

Did he return in kind? Offer a gift of friendship instead?

Harry sighed as he flipped through the sections he had already read, hoping to find something of interest. His eyes narrowed when it came across ‘ _Rituals and Mating Habits of the Unfortunate: The Emotionally Inclined_ ’.

“They’re courting me,” Harry whispered, eyes not able to look away from the passage. The gifts, the trinkets, even the visit in the graveyard—it was all a part of a courtship.

Courtship.

That was a big word, one filled with way more responsibility than he was prepared for. Harry was only 16! He didn’t know what to do with a courtship. Did he even want that?

Harry placed his head in his hands, eyes closing tightly. It was a horrible idea. He didn’t even _know_ the fairy, never met them. What did he know about binding himself to someone else? Let alone another species.

Despite all of that, all his mind was filled with was the mischievous giggle that had felt like a distant memory of home. A home he had never had.

“Fuck.”

No one said he had to decide right away. It had been years of gifts going unanswered, what would a few more do? There was still friendship. Harry could place a lilac flower on the windowsill and let the rejection that it meant flow to the fairy. Friendship, that’s what the gift could be.

… If that’s what he wanted.

But did he?

* * *

**(1996)**

_Numb._

Harry was numb. Dumbledore had died right before his eyes. Witnessing death never got easier but perhaps he had become desensitized by it all because there were no tears, no feelings of grief—just a numbness that spread throughout his whole body.

A hand was still outstretched as if Harry could have caught Dumbledore. When it fell limply to his side, the sound was a thud, a noise that sounded louder than the numbness. It was like the thud of his heart as it broke.

Harry watched Snape put away his wand, as if it was just a normal spell, something that hadn’t just changed _everything,_ the numbness slowly bled into anger. An anger that made his hands shake, eyes narrow and jaw clench. The only thing his mind repeated was to make Snape _pay_.

With the intent to run after him, Harry went to remove the invisibility cloak but couldn’t. It wasn’t the same as Dumbledore’s spell—it felt different. There was a familiar warmth to the magic, that had his eyes closing.

“Let me go,” Harry whispered, the previous conviction slowly fading. “Why are you holding me back?”

_‘I heal you when you hurt.’_

Why did that sound familiar? Had Harry heard that before?

“Okay, heal after I hex him.”

The giggle that plagued his dreams echoed around him and he slumped in defeat. The fairy wasn’t going to do anything they didn’t want to.

“Are you protecting Snape?” The thought alone made his stomach churn.

The Magic spiked and tightened its hold. There was no emotion within the Magic but Harry felt like the fairy was angry.

“You’re protecting me.” It hid his pride a bit. Harry wasn’t as experienced as Snape when it came to Magic, but he was sure he could hold his own!

The hold on him lessened, as if it was a reflex or even an exhale of relief. The Magic grew warmer and that home feeling returned. What was it about the fairy that made him want to hold on?

“I want to see you,” Harry murmured. “I want to see what you look like.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

The Magic disappeared in an instant, taking the warmth with it. The freedom to move didn’t feel like a victory at all. As he stood there, looking at the spot that Dumbledore fell from, he almost thought the numbness would return; it didn’t.

But he was left with a sadness that he wasn’t entirely sure it was his own. 

* * *

**(1996)**

Harry was in a hurry.

It wasn’t safe for him to be outside of protection long. The order didn’t know he was out, and he wanted to return to Hogwarts before the order realized he had left.

“Come on,” Harry growled when the vault door only moved an inch every few seconds. He ignored the glare from a Gringotts’ Goblin.

Harry wasn’t sure of a lot of things, but he knew that once Dumbledore’s funeral happened, he wouldn’t be returning—the need for money might come in handy.

“Finally!”

In his hurry to enter the vault, he slipped on a stray galleon and barely managed to remain upright as his elbow hit a stack of galleons and they crashed to the floor.

When the Goblin snorted, Harry knew he deserved that.

As he crouched down to pick them up, he noticed a black box with jewels that were sparkling. It was beautiful but held nothing on what was inside. Harry inhaled sharply at the two rings that sat nestled between fancy satin. There was a crest of some kind embedded into a sapphire gem. But what caught his attention was bright white wispy lines along the inside of the ring. The pattern was random, but it was _so_ familiar. He’d seen those same wispy lines before...

…when performing a Patronus.

Harry turned around, hands clenching the box tightly. “Do you know what these are?”

The Goblin regarded him with distaste but still stepped into the vault anyway.

“That’s the Potter crest,” he said, a long finger pointing at the rings. “Those are family rings passed down to heirs.”

“Why are there two?”

“Some people have more than one kid.” It was said slowly, clearly hinting toward Harry being stupid. “I do believe, however, that since James Potter was an only child, he gifted the other ring to his wife.”

Harry’s eyes stung at the realization that his parents had worn them. They were a piece of his parents. He put one of them on immediately, wishing it could have been his dad that did it. 

With blurry eyes, Harry looked down at the other ring. He supposed if he ever had more than one kid it could come in handy. But the Goblin’s words replayed in his head.

With a frenzied mind, Harry shoved handfuls of galleons into his bag before leaving the vault; jewelled box clutched to his chest.

* * *

Nervous.

Harry was more nervous than he thought he’d be. It was the last day he’d spend at Hogwarts. After Dumbledore’s funeral, he’d be gone. Today was his last chance to leave a gift for his fairy.

With a deep breath and a rapidly beating heart, Harry placed the only thing he cherished on the windowsill.

The moonlight reflected off of the sapphire gem, making it even more breath-taking.

In the back of his mind, there were doubts of the ring being taken, that he’d never see it again, but he knew better. Someone who had been courting him for so long would cherish it just as much. That eased most of his nerves.

Was it silly to give something so important to a fairy he had never met? When would he ever get to see them?

Hope was a strength to keep going, but Harry wasn’t sure his hope was one. How much longer would he have to wait?

Was it silly to keep hoping?

* * *

Harry was woken up by Magic, not sound. The energy that filled the dorm was strong, stronger than anything he’d ever felt before and it kept increasing. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, trying to understand what it was or what it meant.

A glance toward the windowsill showed that the ring was gone. His first instinct would have been to panic, but his breath caught at the shape of _something_ floating near the window. He reached for his glasses, hoping it wasn’t something his shitty eyesight was projecting.

Small exhales were all he was able to do when he realized it wasn’t a projection. It really _was_ a fairy. Tiny green wings were beating rapidly. The darkness of the night made it hard to see much, but it wasn’t until the fairy got closer that Harry’s world stopped turning.

He clutched his head, eyes closing as his mind was assaulted with dozens of memories at once.

_‘No, Harry. You can’t be a fairy too. That’s not how it works.’_

_‘Why not? I want to be like you, I like you best.’_

_‘Just be who you are, that’s who I like best.’_

**Flash**

_‘What’s wrong little one? Don’t cry, it breaks my heart.’_

_‘I don’t understand. Why do they hate me so much? What did I ever do?’_

_‘You’ve done nothing. Don’t blame yourself for their shortcomings.’_

_‘I want them to love me.’_

_‘I don’t think they ever will. But I can love you tenfold, okay?’_

**Flash**

_‘Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye? You’re not leaving, right?’_

_‘I’ll always be with you.’_

_‘No! Please don’t go. I need you.’_

_‘Don’t shed tears for me, little one. You’ll see me again.’_

_‘Soon?’_

_‘When the time is right.’_

When something touched his knee, Harry jerked his chin up, head dizzy and mind still reeling.

“Draco,” whispered Harry, heart both healing and breaking at the sight of him. Draco was still so tiny, but Harry could tell that he had aged some. What caught his attention was the Potter ring sitting on top of Draco’s head like a crown—too big to fit on his fingers.

Draco’s eyes closed as the corners of his lips tilted upward.

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say my name,” said Draco as he climbed up Harry’s thighs. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever realize my intentions.”

Intentions. That wasn’t the first time Draco had said that.

“You knew even back then that you’d want to court me?”

Draco’s lips pursed before his nails dug deep into Harry’s skin as he started to move up Harry’s arm.

“I felt you when I shouldn’t have. That was a sign. It meant I was meant to help you but—”

“What do you mean ‘shouldn’t have’?” Harry didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“I was so young,” Draco grinned, jagged teeth poking through. “Fairies can’t have charges unless they are of age. But you called to me, your hurt was a beacon that I couldn’t ignore.”

“You could feel it?” Harry shifted uncomfortably. His childhood had been no picnic, but he hadn’t thought it was bad enough to the point that help was needed.

Draco shook his head, glittery silver magic falling onto Harry’s shoulder. “I can see it. I had never seen such powerful hurt.”

“Power? How can hurt have power?”

“Because you have power,” Draco arched a brow as he said it far too slowly. “Your power amplifies things, Harry. When you feel something that cuts deep, your power sends out pulses. The power you possess is very strong, and that amplified _everything_.”

“So you came to me even though you weren’t allowed to.” Harry felt warm all over.

When Draco nodded, the ring slipped a little leaving it crooked on his head, and Harry was so fond.

“I knew I was meant to help you,” Draco said, fingers fidgeting in a manner that was not like him. “And maybe I was meant for you too.”

Harry couldn’t stop the sharp inhale from escaping as he stared into the eyes he had loved all those years ago.

“And me?” Harry asked. “Am I meant for you?”

“That’s something you have to decide,” Draco said, cheeks red and eyes on is feet.

“I already did.”

Draco’s head jerked upward, hands coming up to stop the ring from falling off his head. “Then you meant this?” he asked before bringing the ring to his chest and holding on tightly. “You’ve never left me a gift before.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. “It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t trash, that the trinkets meant something special.

“Trash?” Draco stomped his feet silver glitter falling to Harry’s skin as a burst of energy escaped—it was hot and stifling.

“Those came from the heart,” Draco said as his nose scrunched up leaving his forehead wrinkled and eyes narrowed. “My courting gifts took a long time to plan, and here you thought they were trash. Mere trash. Why I’ll have you know—

Harry placed his pinkie finger over Draco’s mouth to shut him up.

“I don’t think they are trash,” he whispered, eyes on Draco’s still scrunched up nose. “I found the meaning to them and I love them. I have them all.”

Draco pushed Harry’s finger away, eyes bright and staring intently at him. “You kept them?”

“All of them.”

“I forgive you then,” Draco said, nose lifted in the air as a snub.

“I wasn’t asking for any.”

“I don’t care.”

Harry rolled his eyes before laying down, cushioning Draco to his chest.

“You really want to court me?” Harry asked, not entirely sure what it was about him that attracted Draco to him.

“Obviously,” drawled Draco. “Or I wouldn’t have spent years sending you gifts while you never gave anything back.”

Harry opened his mouth to apologize again but Draco shrugged as he flopped down on Harry’s chest, feet stretched out and moving restlessly.

“I knew a long time ago that what drew me to you had to mean more than helping you,” Draco frowned. “It just had to. No pull of magic between us could mean anything else.”

“But what does it mean?”

Draco huffed. “I already told you. I was meant for you.”

“We.”

An arched brow was his response. “We’re meant for each other.”

There was a dusting of pink on Draco’s cheeks as he looked down.

“We,” Draco agreed, voice barely audible.

They sat in silence after that; comfortable and taking in the joy of seeing each other again. There was so much Harry wanted to ask but that could wait until later. Right now all he wanted to do was take comfort in Draco’s presence.

“What now?” Harry murmured, eyes closing as he fought a yawn. “How long does a courtship last?”

“Depends.” Draco’s fingers drummed along Harry’s chest. “Fairies tend to court most of their life.”

Harry’s eyes sprang open. _“What?”_

The mischievous giggle he got in return was exactly what he needed. That sound was one that filled his heart with every ounce of comfort.

“I’m tired of waiting,” Draco whispered as he sat up, knees digging into Harry’s skin. “I had worried you’d never figure out my intentions. I’d have courted you forever if that’s what it took.”

Harry exhaled; breath shaky. “And now?’

“Now we wait for the right time.”

When Draco didn’t continue, Harry arched his brows. “When is that?”

Draco smiled, jagged teeth making an appearance again. It should have been creepy, but it was honestly endearing.

“You’ll know.”

“I don’t like your riddles.”

“Get used to them,” Draco said, standing up and brushing off excess glittery dust. “You’ll hear them the rest of your life.”

That was a promise. Harry could see it in Draco’s eyes, and it made him melt.

“I’d like that.”

Draco’s eyes closed as he smiled softly, hands coming up to touch the ring on his head, as if making sure it was still there.

When they opened, there was a touch of sadness in them that Harry didn’t like.

“I must go,” Draco said, eyes on the window.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Draco walked to Harry’s chin before placing his hand on Harry’s nose in an attempt to boop it. “I’ll always be with you; you must know this.”

Yeah, he did. “But that doesn’t stop me from missing you.”

The soft smile was back, and Harry wanted to embed into his memory forever.

“You’ll see me again.” Draco leaned down to press a kiss to Harry’s bottom lip before he took flight.

“Soon?” Harry whisper-yelled, coming up into a sitting position.

Draco twirled in the air, a gust of magic surrounding him in a mini-tornado of power, silver dust bursting outward.

“When the time is right.” It was Draco’s voice, but Draco wasn’t visible anymore.

When the time is right. What did that even mean? It didn’t sound soon to Harry. He fell back against the bed, eyes closing in frustration.

With most of his memories of Draco back, there was a hole in Harry’s heart that never got filled with Draco’s absence. But as he thought of Draco, he knew that it didn’t matter.

They’d have plenty of time to fill it back up.

* * *

* * *

**(1997)**

The sound of Hermione and Ron fighting in low whispers wasn’t the cause of his headache, but Harry sure would like to blame it on them. All of their hands were bound and all he could see was the gaudy and ostentatious design of whatever house belonged to one of Voldemort’s henchmen.

Greyback was fighting far louder than his friends were, and _that_ was far more plausible to blame the ache in his head on.

“I found them; the credit goes to me.”

“You brought them to _my_ house.” The voice wasn’t familiar at all, but the man’s appearance _was._ It had to be Nott’s father—Nott Sr.

“Only because—”

“You don’t have a mark. Therefore I’ll be calling him in.”

Harry wasn’t afraid of Voldemort, not in the slightest, but he worried about the outcome all of this would have on Ron and Hermione. There weren’t many options, not with them bound and their wands having been taken. He had never been good at wandless magic intentionally; it was all by accident most of the time.

A glance toward to Hermione showed her biting her lip, eyes moving rapidly in a way that he knew she was cycling through thoughts, probably trying to come up with a frown. The little winces and subtle frowns were enough for Harry to know that she didn’t have anything.

They were fucked.

Just as Harry closed his eyes to try and think of something himself, a warm haze of Magic settled over the room.

“What was that?” Greyback asked, the sound of shuffling feet just as tense as his voice. “Is someone else here?”

The Magic was bright and filled with _so_ much power. A power that filled him with awe, a power that touched his own Magic and for a brief moment felt as if they had intertwined.

Harry knew that Magic.

There were several loud gasps that drew his attention. When Harry opened his eyes, he expected to see their captors doing something or even nothing, but what he hadn’t expected was to see Draco floating near the ceiling.

“A fairy,” Ron whispered, eyes wide and a little fearful.

Nott backed up, eyes narrowed, and wand pointed at Draco who tilted his head before snapping a finger making Nott’s wand crack right down the middle before it disintegrated. That was enough for Greyback to run out of the room, the front door slamming shut, the noise echoing around the silence of the room.

“I’ve broken no treaties,” Nott said, standing tall in a way that his tone did not match. “There is no reason for a member of the Fae line to be here.”

“Ah,” Draco said, a wicked smirk highlighting his jagged teeth. Harry snorted when Ron whimpered a bit. “But you have. You have brought harm to my intended.”

Nott’s brows furrowed as his mouth parted and head shook rapidly. “I haven’t seen a fairy in over a decade. I assure you, there has been no harm done to your betrothed.”

Betrothed. The word alone had his face heating up and he refused to look at Ron who he _knew_ was looking at him.

“Deceit befalls you so easily,” Draco sneered, hands coming to his hips as the Magic in the room swirled. “Lie to me one more time and your fate will be as empty as your falsehoods; not a fitting reality for a mortal such as yourself.” 

The confusion on Nott’s face only went away when Draco landed on Harry’s shoulder.

_“Fuck.”_

There was a fear in Nott’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. One that Harry hadn’t expected to see on the face of a Death Eater. What was so scary about him being with a fairy?

“I didn’t sign up for this shit,” Nott blew out harshly before withdrawing Ron’s wand.

“He’s going to call him!” Hermione yelled but it was too late.

The pain in Harry’s head increased, and he knew that Voldemort would arrive any second. When the pain got unbearable, Harry clutched his head, wincing at the sudden loudness that took over the silence. He could hear Ron and Hermione yelling, but what broke through his focus the most was a quiet hum from Draco.

“I give you pieces of me,” Draco said, voice so soft and soothing. “You take those pieces and leave. Take your friends with you.”

“But what about—”

There was a small pressure against his bottom lip and he just _knew_ it was another kiss. The Magic that had been previously around the room was now shifting. Harry gasped when a jolt of power entered his body and lifted him off the ground. It was almost too much.

The bindings that had been on his wrists snapped easily as his back arched and more power entered him. Who knew something as tiny as Draco could hold all of that?

“Leave, Harry. _Now._ ”

It was instinct rather than thought, one hand held out was enough to summon their wands from Nott, whose fear had been replaced with absolute horror. With leaving in mind, Harry just thought of Ron and Hermione at the same time as he thought about safety.

Harry didn’t understand it fully but as he apparated away, he was confident that Ron and Hermione would arrive as well.

The landing was awful as Harry opened his eyes to see that he was sprawled on the ground, and sand from the beach they apparated to got everywhere. Most of the raw power that Draco had given him left when they landed but there was a small amount that remained that he could _feel_ playing with his own Magic.

When Harry sat up groaning at the way the pain in his head spiked and an echo of an angry yell reverberated inside his mind. Voldemort was not happy. It was hard to block things out but what he could see was Voldemort torturing Nott who had suddenly lost his ability to talk. No sign of Draco anywhere, but that was for the best.

That meant Draco was safe.

As the pain dimmed to a simmering ache, he opened his eyes to see Ron and Hermione standing in front of him, arms crossed, and their eyes narrowed.

“So,” Hermione began, lips twitching in a way that did not match her angry stance. “When is the wedding?”

Harry groaned before flopping back on the beach, frowning when they laughed at him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron asked. “We’ve done nothing but spend time with each other. Do you know how long you getting married to a fairy would have kept us entertained? I wouldn’t have had to listen to Hermione’s lecture on the three properties of Nightshade and its uses in potions.”

“Hey!”

Harry said nothing, not really wanting to get into all the reasons Draco had remained just for him.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” Hermione warned before helping Harry stand up. “No way you’re getting out of it just because we almost died.”

“Later,” said Harry, brushing off stray bits of sand from his robes.

_Much later._

* * *

There had many times throughout the battle that Harry felt Draco’s presence but couldn’t see him. Each time he tried calling Draco’s name, nothing happened.

Why was he being ignored?

With each new fight he entered, each new person he helped save, each new near-death experience, Harry thought of Draco. Needed him by his side.

But as Harry stared down at the pensive of memories, everything seemed to hollow inside of him. Even his heart.

He was supposed to die. all along? And no one thought it should have been mentioned? No one thought to talk to him about it? It concerned him after all.

Where thinking of Draco had once made his heart race, all it did now was fill him with sorrow. They were courting each other; they were supposed to have a happy ending. A happy ending Harry had only let himself think of during rare moments of happiness. Draco had been a part of his life longer than anyone else and it wasn’t _fair._

What would Draco think? Would he handle the loneliness okay?

Harry’s eyes stung as he left the Headmaster’s office, left the hallway, left the school and left every chance of a happy ending behind.

With each new step forward it felt like he was leaving behind too much; his tears, his memories, his love, his heart. But that’s what he needed to harden himself up to face Voldemort. He could do it, but his final moments wouldn’t be as the person he had grown to love. It would be the person Dumbledore had tried so hard to mould him into.

It was easier talking to his parents than he thought it would be. He loved them, he did, but even now seeing them still felt like they weren’t really them. They were mere ghosts that would only last as long as his grip on the stone would. That was it.

The closer he got to the clearing, the more he could feel that familiar Magic surround him, invisible warm caresses that would have normally filled him with excitement now filled him with dread.

“Harry?”

Draco’s voice had him shaking his head. He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t take the pain anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

His stony posterior crumbled when Draco flew in front of him, eyes just as concerned as the rest of his face.

“You should be in the castle where it’s safe. I calculated the risk ratio, and this doesn’t fit.”

 _“Draco,”_ Harry croaked, eyes watering before closing when Draco _understood_.

“No.” Draco’s body shook. “Please don’t go in there.”

“I have to. It’s who I am.”

Draco blinked rapidly and Harry knew he was trying not to cry, that made his own eyes sting harder.

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to be anyone but who you already are.”

That was the thing though, wasn’t it? Who was he? The person Dumbledore wanted to sacrifice? The portrayal the media loved to write about? The person his friends knew? The person he thought he had always been? The person Draco wanted to court?

Who was he?

“If I do this, Voldemort will have nothing tying him here. If I do this, everyone back there can take him. If I do this, there’s a shot at him actually dying.”

“We could find another way.” It was almost a plead, Draco never pleaded, and each word broke his heart.

There wasn’t another way, or if there was, there was no time to figure it out. It was now or never, and if Harry was going to die, then he wanted to make sure it made Voldemort mortal enough to die too.

“Will you do me a favour?” Harry asked, his voice raspier than he had wanted. “Will you keep the ring?”

Draco lost the battle at appearing strong as tears slid down his cheeks before he reached up to grip the ring.

“It’s all I have of you.”

“I wanted to give you the world,” Harry whispered. “I wanted to court you with more beautiful things. I wanted to—”

Draco closed his eyes tightly as his head shook as rapidly as his wings did.

“Let me go with you.”

“No,” Harry said, tone firm and hard. “You’re going to leave the forest and you’re going to live out the rest of your life. Maybe even find someone else.”

“But it’s always been you.”

Harry wished that didn’t hurt, wished that things could be different.

“Maybe I’ll come back as a fairy.”

Draco threw his arms around Harry’s neck, only reaching halfway. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Then don’t.” Harry wished he could hold properly, just once. “You’ll see me again.”

“Soon?” Draco asked and if things had been different, Harry would have laughed at their role reversal.

“When the time is right.”

But would there ever truly be a right time?

* * *

Deciding whether to get on the train or go back wasn’t a hard decision. Not when going back meant Draco, not when going back meant his friends, not when going back meant getting rid of Voldemort once and for all.

As Harry came to with the sound of jeering Death Eaters echoing around the forest and Hagrid’s yelling, he realized he could still feel Draco.

The Magic from Draco that had never left swirled rapidly inside of him, as if it were reaching for something.

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

It was relief mixed with a heavy dose of grief, that’s all he could feel from Draco and it had him wishing he could comfort him.

Nott was sent to see if he was still alive. Of course he was.

When Nott let out a tiny groan at the heartbeat thrumming underneath his fingers, Harry wished he could snort.

“If you don’t tell him I’m dead I _will_ kill you,” Harry breathed, barely audible.

The sound Nott released was part whimper and part sigh. “He’s dead.”

The yelling got louder, the cheers grew with it and for the first time in a long time, Harry felt hope.

A nudge of Draco’s Magic had him feeling something else too.

_Love._

* * *

**Epilogue**

When Harry felt Draco’s Magic he frowned. There was something different about it. It was still swirling but there was a restlessness to it that didn’t fit Draco at all. It was almost like nervousness.

_Wait._

Harry looked around rapidly when Draco’s Magic pulsed. “Is it finally the right time?”

A poof of silver dust scattered around him as Draco materialized on Harry’s shoulder.

“Depends on you,” Draco said, nose pressed against his cheek. “Are you ready, Harry? Are you ready to become my mate?”

Yes. He had been waiting far too long. Years, even.

_“Yes.”_

Draco flew in front of Harry to see his eyes better. “Are you sure?”

“Bloody hell, yes.”

Narrowed eyes were the only warning he got before he felt a pinch to his skin. Ahh, what a lovely reminder of their youth.

“You have two options.”

“Er.” What?

“Do you still have that stone I gave you?”

The only reason Harry went digging into the box he kept on his nightstand was because of how serious Draco sounded.

“Here.” Harry kept everything, even the new gifts Draco left for him daily.

Draco placed the stone against his lips and blew on it before throwing it in the air. A portal opened, barely the size of a telly. Only, Harry could _see_ the other side.

It was breath-taking. It looked like a forest, but there were tiny homes all over the tall trees filled with Magic and too much beauty to be a reality. When several fairies flew by, Harry inhaled sharply. This was Draco’s home.

“If we mate in your world, I will become like you.”

“How so?”

“Big.”

 _Oh_. “You’ll be a human-sized fairy?”

Draco shook his head. “I can’t be a fairy in this world after mating. I will become mortal.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. Draco would always be a fairy to him, it was a part of their history from the beginning.

“And the other option?”

“You become tiny.”

Harry’s mouth parted as his eyes found the portal again. “I’ll be a fairy, like you?”

Draco raised a hand only to shake it a little. “Sort of. You won’t be able to take on charges or be able to tap into the Fae lines, but you will have wings and your own Magic.”

“What do you think I should do?”

A small hand placed on his cheek had Harry’s eyes closing.

“My home is you, Harry. Whether you choose to stay or experience something new, either is okay, because I have you.”

“You’re my home too.”

With one final glance at the portal, his decision had been made.

“I want to experience something new,” Harry said, head nodding once in affirmation. “Take me home.”

Draco flew forward and tackled his face in a small embrace. His name was said between pecks of Draco’s lips.

A funny feeling took root, but he tried to push it out of his mind enough to focus on Draco. Only when he did, something had changed. The kisses no longer seemed so small.

Harry looked down in time to see his body shrink. Oh, _oh._ His balance became wobbly and before he could catch himself from falling, arms wrapped around him.

“I’ve got you, little one.” The nose pressed against his cheek felt normal, no longer tiny. “It may take some getting used to.”

“And you’ll be there to help me.”

The smile on Draco’s face was so beautiful, and it solidified everything for Harry at that moment, he had made the right choice.

Harry wasn’t able to fly properly, his new blue wings felt too big and heavy, but he didn’t mind that much when Draco picked him up bridal style. He had spent so much time wishing he could hold Draco, but being held by him was nice too.

“You ready?” Draco gestured toward the portal with his chin. “We can always come back to visit.”

Harry placed a hand on Draco’s cheek, turning his head enough that he could return all the kisses that had been given to him over the years. It was better than his imagination. As their lips moved, Harry felt both of their Magic combine and knew that part of them would always remain tangled together.

“Take me home.”

And so he did.

* * *

**Bonus Scene**

**(1985)**

Something was happening and Harry didn’t know what to do. There was a rumbling of the room as his cupboard shook. Was it the house? Was the house broken? Harry threw his ratty duvet over his head and tried to block everything out.

When the shaking stopped, he was tempted to peek out, but he wasn’t strong enough. What if it was something else? What if it was a monster? He was safe as long as he didn’t leave the blanket. Monsters couldn’t get you if you were under a blanket.

“Why are you hiding?”

Harry covered his mouth to muffle the yell that escaped. Monsters could talk? Unable to stop his curiosity, he braved the consequences and poked his head up.

His hand fell from his mouth as he gasped loudly before rubbing his eyes. It wasn’t real. It _couldn’t_ be real.

A fairy.

There was a fairy floating in front of him! Not a monster!

“Hi, Harry.”

Another gasp. Harry started shaking, only instead of fear it was excitement. He _knew_ Uncle Vernon had lied. Magic _was_ real.

“You know my name?”

The fairy’s eyes closed as he smiled softly. “I know a lot about you.”

“I don’t know about you though,” Harry said frowning. “That’s very rude of me.”

The fairy giggled and the sound was so pretty. “My name is Draco.”

Pretty name, pretty voice, pretty smile, pretty fairy. Draco was _pretty_.

“You’re so pretty.”

Draco flew closer, eyes as bright as his smile. “Thank you, little one.”

Harry pursed his lips as he crossed his arms. “I’m not little.”

“You are to me.”

That didn’t make any sense. Draco was tiny! He was the little one, not Harry!

“How did you get here?” Harry asked. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you,” Draco opened his hands, gesturing around the cupboard.

“Me?”

“You.”

“Are you my friend now?” Harry asked, his feet wiggling non-stop, his excitement too much to hold in. “I’ve never had a friend.”

There was a sadness on Draco’s face that Harry didn’t like. Was it something he said?

“You’ve got me now,” Draco said before poking Harry’s nose.

For how long though? Harry wasn’t used to kindness lasting.

“Forever?”

_“Forever.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Fairy Draco is everything. Okay. Every time I think of him I coo a little on the inside shks. Harry thinking the gifts were trash had me rolling, not going to lie. I grew fond of Nott Sr, and I'm not really sure why lmaoo. I wouldn't mind writing more of him in another story. The bonus scene was something I had thought of first, but it didn't fit in the storyline and it was driving me nuts. So I added it like that so y'all could see them meet for the first time. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope y'all had fun reading it. Scarlet's art is so freaking pretty, and I can't thank her enough for accepting my commission. Show her some love, please. 
> 
> Let me know any thoughts and as always, I'll see y'all next time. 
> 
> —XxTheDarkLordxX


End file.
